


Love Me or Leave Me

by rowaelinsmut



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 13:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowaelinsmut/pseuds/rowaelinsmut





	1. Chapter 1

Rhysand turned over in bed, away from Feyre. She hadn’t spoken a word to him all day. He could feel the quiet fury Feyre had been harboring for what felt like months now. His hands curled into fists, his anger boiling to the surface. Every night it was the same. Him, unable to reach her and Feyre doing everything in her power to pretend he didn’t exist.

He had enough.

Rhys loosed a breath and calmed himself. “Feyre?” He whispered tentatively, voice cracking from disuse.

She didn’t answer. She was awake, he knew that much. Her sleeping schedule had been erratic since that fateful day, six months ago.

His hand shook as he reached out to touch her. He couldn’t remember the last time he was allowed to touch her. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder, “Feyre, please.”

Feyre pulled away as though he’d burned her. She was out of the bed before Rhys registered it. “What are you doing?” She hissed, venom lacing her words.

Rhys swallowed, tears pricking at his eyes. He sat up slowly in bed, disentangling the sheets from his legs. Getting up from the bed, he moved to her side. She flinched back, eyes full of mistrust.

“Don’t come any closer,” she croaked as she wrapped her arms around her slim form. Like she was trying to hold herself together. She had lost so much weight. She looked like… she looked like she had when she’d finally left Tamlin.

“Why are you pushing me away, Feyre? What are you running from?”

Her gaze turned accusatory. “You know why, Rhysand.” She spat his name at him.

Each word she uttered was a knife to his heart.

It wasn’t fair, he also lost a child all those months ago and yet he had to be strong, never allowed to express his grief. It wasn’t just her burden, the loss of their unborn baby boy weighed over their marriage, a hammer ready to drop.

It seemed the hammer was now falling.

Tears spilled over Rhys’ violet eyes. “I-I’m sorry, Feyre. I know we will never completely be over the loss of our first. Maybe with time we could try again. I’m hurting too, Feyre Darling.”

Her eyes shuttered closed, pain flashing across her face. “I don’t want another. I wanted him.” Her voice broke on the last syllable.

Rhys moved to console her but she withdrew further, now pressed fully in the corner of the room. He had never felt so shattered, seeing the woman he loved forced into a cage of her own making.

“I love you. I will always love you. Tell me how to-how to help you. I don’t know what to do.” He ran his hands through his hair, taking a seat on the edge of their bed. She had said she needed space, that it was temporary.

It didn’t feel temporary any longer.

Feyre left the corner and went to the walk-in closet tied to their bedroom. He heard her rustling through her clothes. No response.

He had said he loved her every day for years. She had stopped saying it back around the time she stopped letting him near her.

Rhys’ heart stuttered, nerves frayed. He pulled himself off the bed, going towards the closet. She was out before he made it. She was carrying a duffle bag, filled with her clothes. All of her clothes.

“Feyre, please don’t do this. I will do anything. Anything for you.”

She continued ignoring him as she went to the ensuite bathroom adjoining the bedroom. He followed her once more and reached the room in time to see her clear the white marble counters of her cosmetics.

Rhys didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t touch her. He would never lay a hand on her. She had experienced enough abuse at the hands of her previous boyfriend. He had promised she would always be safe but she… she was leaving.

Feyre didn’t look him in the eyes before she left the room, starting downstairs. Rhys came after her.

“Feyre! Is there nothing to be done? We’ve been married for five years, together for seven. We can get through anything. We got through what that bastard did to you. We can get passed this too.” His voice was unsteady, tears freely flowing down his cheeks.

She reached the front door and paused, head resting against it in hesitation. He stopped short in the entryway, not wanting to spook her in case she changed her mind.

“I can’t. This… this is over, Rhys. We can’t fix this. I can’t fix this. I’m… sorry, but goodbye.”

She opened the door and closed it swiftly behind her. Rhys’ heart shattered at the sound of the door closing.

After all this time, everything he had tried to do… love him or leave him, her choice was clear. That last ember of hope in his heart flickered, and went out.


	2. Love Me or Leave Me II

The daylight was receding from the room and Rhysand sat alone in the shadows of the day nursing a scotch. This was something he had become quite acquainted with in the three months since Feyre had left him. He wasn’t alone most days though. Cassian and Azriel stopped by daily and ensured he ate something and at least spoke to another living being.

Rhys’ pattern for the last three months had been to sleep, go to work, come home and drink. He seldom deviated from this schedule and preferred to be left to his own devices.

A knock sounded at the door and as Cass and Az had already left for the day and they weren’t polite enough for pleasantries such as knocking anyways, Rhys was slightly annoyed.

He tossed back the remainder of his drink and set the glass on the coffee table in front of him. Standing up, he smoothed his shirt and crossed the room to the front entry. The knock sounded again, tentative this time.

Rhys opened the door to find Feyre standing on the porch, fidgeting nervously. Her beautiful grey-blue eyes were wide but clear. He couldn’t see a trace of the previous pain she had harboured, that had haunted those eyes. Had continued haunting him since she had left.

“Hi Rhys,” she was breathless in her greeting.

His heart contracted painfully and the agony of the last three months and the six months before that came welling up. His knees gave out and he slumped to the ground but Feyre was there, reaching for him and cradling his face in her hands, holding him as though he were her whole world. He knew it could not be true. She would have stayed otherwise.

She brushed the tears streaming down Rhys’ face away with the pads of her thumbs. “I’m sorry Rhys, I am so sorry.”

Rhysand pulled Feyre to him and they faced one another, their knees pressed together. “You’re here. You’re real and I can… I can feel you.” His voice cracked and he grabbed at her hands, pressing his lips to her knuckles. Tears were streaming down her face as well.

That face, that beautiful face… he had missed her dearly. Nothing could ever fill the void of his wife. No amount of alcohol in the world could give him the rush and high and burning desire that she could. He had wasted so much time wallowing.

“Would it be alright if I came in?” She shivered a little with the evening chill.

Rhys rubbed at his face, “Of course. I’m sorry. I’m just… shocked.” He eased himself off the ground and offered his hand to Feyre. She took it without hesitation and he lifted her to her feet. Rhys made to let go of her hand but she only tightened her grip. His heart thudded unevenly and he led her through the door and into their home. It was still her home after all.

He felt a flash of embarrassment as they entered the living room. The new bottle of scotch he had opened this evening sat beside the one he had finished last night. It was dark and felt more like a prison of despair than the bright and open space it had once been. Feyre didn’t falter, he beheld no judgement on her face but rather something akin to guilt. Rhys cleared his throat and stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do or say.

Feyre led the way to the couch, flicking on the light switch as she went. She directed Rhys to his previous seat and as he sat, she walked around the room opening the blinds.

He couldn’t believe she was back in their home. What did this mean?

She finished opening the last of the curtains open and turned to face him from across the room. Feyre looked so small and alone and Rhys felt a kernel of shame. He couldn’t explain what about, except that he knew that he should have fought harder. Done more.

“No, Rhys. It was me.” She read plainly on his face the emotions warring inside of him. She crossed the room and sat at his feet, offering her hands to him. He grasped at her, not willing to let her go now that she was truly and physically present. “You did nothing wrong. You were my support, the only driving force behind me getting out of bed in the morning. I stopped trying and I alone am the one who stopped fighting.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks on her shoulder, also unwilling to let him go. Hope bloomed in his chest at her words. Was this real?

“I can never begin to express how deeply I regret the wedge that grew between us. How sorry I am for walking out on you. You did everything you could have but it is me alone who is responsible for everything that has happened.” She sobbed and Rhys couldn’t help himself any longer, he pulled her from the ground and set her in his lap so he could cradle her in his arms. She grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling herself closer and trying to remove any distance between them. Feyre’s head tucked under his chin and Rhys’ tears ran into her hair.

“Where have you been? I-I didn’t know where you were or if you were okay.” Rhys leaned back a little so he could see her face, blotchy and tear stained as it was, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world to him.

“I was with Mor. She let me stay with her in her apartment and she set me up with a therapist who has really… she really changed my outlook on the loss of our baby boy. Please, don’t be mad at Mor. I made her promise she wouldn’t say anything. I wasn’t in the position to make such demands but I didn’t know how wrong I was then.”

Rhys loosed the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “I could never be mad at her for giving you what you needed. I’m relieved that you were safe. That you found someone to help you. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t do it with me.”

Feyre shook her head. “Don’t you dare apologise, Rhys. I’m sorry. You are everything to me and I should never have doubted your ability to help me. I will never ever forget the loss of our son but he… he isn’t the end for us. If you’ll ever find it in your heart to forgive me and let me make it up to you.”

Rhys choked back tears and he cradled her precious face in his hand. His entire world was in his reach, he just had to take it. “There is nothing to forgive Feyre, darling. I’ve only ever wanted for you to be happy and safe and protected.” She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing in relief. “If you ever feel as though I can’t give you that, then please talk to me. I would move mountains for you.”

Feyre breathed deep, memorising the smell and feel of her husband. Allowing the rush of his being to wash over her once again, after starving herself of him for so long.

“I made sure Cass and Az stopped by every day, I’m sorry if they were a pain. I had to know you were okay.”

Rhys pulled Feyre tight to him once more. She hadn’t ever given up on him. That meant more to him than any apology. She had just needed her space. Needed time.

“Thank you. For thinking of me.”

“Always, Rhys.” She paused, uncertainty plain on her face. “Would you consider coming to therapy with me? It’s not that I think we have problems that can be sorted out without professional help. I just think it would be good for you to know that I’ve been fighting my way back to you every day since I left. I was just finally brave enough to come home.”

Rhys smiled as she called the house her home. This was all he’d hoped for. “Anything for you and anything for us. Whatever you require. Welcome home.” He kissed the top of her head, unable to say anything else lest he completely lost it.

She too released a breath of relief. Feyre looked around the room and saw the bottles around the table. She allowed herself a moment to really take in her husband. Shadows were haunting his eyes and he had dark rings from lack of sleep. He looked ragged and worn but in his gaze, she could see that there was light and hope waiting. “Is it bad? The drinking?” She whispered, shame colouring her cheeks.

Rhys smiled sadly, “I’m not addicted by any means but it has been a source of comfort. I can’t deny that seeing a therapist would benefit both of us at this point.”

Feyre hugged Rhys to her. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’ll be okay, I know it. We can do anything together.”

__

Feyre thought back on that day often. How lucky she was to have such a loving and caring man as her husband. Someone who could see her at her lowest points and not be afraid. Someone who never gave up on her, even in her weakest hours. He had stopped drinking that day. It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t a fight. After they’d talked for hours of everything between them for their months apart, he had got up and dumped the bottle down the drain. Rhys came to therapy and they discussed their own personal battles with their loss and they found new ways to cope and eventually began to look to the future.

She fought tooth and nail for their marriage in the last year and she knew she could never make up for the pain she had caused this beautiful and selfless man, but she would fight for him until her last breath anyways.

She smiled fondly as he came into the room with the hospital bag.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, love. Just thanking my lucky stars for you. As usual.” She teased lightly, despite the discomfort currently plaguing her body.

Rhys smiled adoringly at his wife before swooping in for a kiss. She grimaced at the contact and he pulled back, worry creasing his brow. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” Feyre assured him, reaching for him once again.

He set the bag down on the floor before reaching for his wife and gently pulling her up with him. She doubled over in pain as soon as she was upright and Rhys braced himself, allowing her to take out her discomfort on him in whatever way he could provide.

As Feyre righted herself, she smiled at her husband. “This is not going to be easy, is it?”

Rhys laughed as he offered his arm to her. “No, darling. I don’t think it will be.”

Feyre chuckled and rested a hand on her swollen belly before letting Rhys lead her towards the front door and out to the car.

“Let’s go have this baby, shall we?”


End file.
